


flesh and bone

by alphai



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Half-Elf Inquisitor, Trans Character, Trespasser DLC spoilers, mentions of Solas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 12:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13388238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphai/pseuds/alphai
Summary: The esteemed Inquisitor takes a much-needed break to visit her family and do some inventory.





	flesh and bone

**Author's Note:**

> listen i know its ""canon"" that half-elves in thedas look like humans but do i care? no.  
> bioware cant control me. they can rip my half-elf trans girl inquisitor from my cold, dead hands.

When the grip of winter had settled itself firmly upon the forests of Thedas, the infamous former Inquisitor was finally allowed her much-needed break. The exalted council had deliberated and bickered about the details of the Inquisition's disbandment, and settled on a deal that everyone was satisfied with. Mistress Lavellan was finally freed from the prison of courtroom drama and constricting formalwear.

"You shouldn't think of it as a prison, dear," Vivienne had said as Dawn backed a single satchel for her departure. "Think of it as a vacation, interrupted by controlling bureaucracy."

"That's been my life for the last two years," Dawn replied.

She had reached for her bow then, but her hand froze. She would need to defend herself, of course, but using arrows just wasn't practical anymore.

For all the gifts the anchor had given her, it just had to take her most useful skill from her in return.

Now Dawn was trekking her way deep into the eastern forests, armed with a single dagger and her training of survival. A long hike up a mountainside in winter was nothing to her, not after the last time she had done it. And this time she knew where she was and where she was going.

Most of the trees here had lost their leaves already, and Dawn knew just what to look for; only one person lived this far out in the wilderness, and she had been following all the symbols he had left for her.

As she passed by another tree, she saw one of those symbols now: a small, subtle outline of a rabbit's head carved into the trunk just at her eye level. This one had a small plus sign under it. She was close now. Dawn glanced up through the bare branches, and sure enough, there was a distinct column of black smoke beginning to come into view. The white winter clouds in the sky made it even easier to detect.

The prospect of a roaring fire, a comfortable place to sit, a warm house, freshly-cooked meat—

As soon as the idea of food crossed her mind, Dawn's stomach was already growling. She had spent too many days eating nothing but pheasant and whatever wild vegetables she could find. Maybe those years of living in a castle had pampered her too much.

Snow was starting to fall again when the smell hit her. Leave it to him to only burn pine trees. If the house was going to be filled with the smell of smoke, it might as well be pleasant smoke. But with the hike ending, a feeling of dread washed over Dawn, and she pulled her overcoat over her left shoulder, hiding the remains of her arm.

She was making this trip without any prior warning, and knowing that the person she was about to visit made a point of not keeping up with any news that humans put out. He wouldn't know about the Inquisition disbanding, and he wouldn't know about her condition.

The cabin came into view before she had a chance to make up an excuse. Not that it would matter, he would find out eventually anyway. He was perceptive like that. Except for the six months where he assumed his daughter had died in the conclave and never bothered to find out that she was now leading a rebel group to repair a hole in the sky.

Dawn stepped up slowly to the doorway of her father's home. This wasn't where she had grown up, but even from looking at the exterior, she knew that it paid homage to her childhood in some way. Not just in the symbols carved into trees, but the decorative rabbits carved from stone (now wearing hats of snow) that sat next to the front landing. Her old practice bow was even nearby, resting against a tree that had a target pinned to it.

Taking a breath, trying not to stress herself out over how he would react and just reminding herself of how much she needed to see him, Dawn raised her right hand and knocked.

The sound of footsteps came quickly, almost rushing to open the door. Understandably, Dawn was the only person he had told about this place. Her father didn't trust humans, he didn't even feel comfortable around the Dalish. He had been waiting for a chance to break off from the clan and go back to living in solitude ever since he had left Kirkwall.

Dawn's father was a tall, slender elf, with copper skin and a prominent nose, both of which Dawn had inherited. His tired, hazel eyes conveyed a sense of caution and suspicion that he could only have gotten from his few years of living in a city surrounded by humans and qunari alike. His long, dark brown hair was usually tied back, though he hadn't gotten around to that today, and now it hung down to his shoulders like always.

He hadn't changed a bit in the time since Dawn had seen him, but she knew that she had.

It had only been two years, but a lot can happen in that time. Dawn retained enough of her mother's features to have the bright amber eyes and auburn hair, but her freckles were now mixed with two or three small scars. Maybe she should have waited a bit longer after her amputation to come back, because she knew her father took note of the gaunt under her eyes and on her cheeks.

If he did, he certainly didn't care. As soon as he saw her, his face lit up in a genuine smile that brought out his crow's feet, and he pulled Dawn into a hug, luckily just around her shoulders. She knew he would notice that she only hugged back with one arm, but she did it anyway.

"I missed you, _da'assan_ ," he said before pulling back, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "You should have told me you were coming, I would've hunted more for you."

"There's no need for that, I can—" Dawn stopped herself, realizing that, no, she could not hunt for herself later. Not in the way he would expect her to. "I can manage."

The disadvantage her father had, being a full-blooded elf, was that his ears were longer than hers, and more indicative of changes in emotion. Being raised by him meant that she could identify understand every subtle twitch of his ears, and now she caught the "I know something's wrong" twitch.

"Well, come inside," he said. "Maker knows how you made it all the way here in this weather without complaining the second I opened the door."

Dawn laughed at that, letting him lead her into the small but expectantly warm living room. She felt him trying to take her cloak for her and flinched, pulling the left side further around herself and turning on her heel to look at him.

That was a look of shock and worry on his face that she hadn't seen in a while. Dawn just sighed, avoiding eye contact with him.

"I...there's something I should tell you, father." She really hadn't prepared for this reveal at all, much as she knows she should have. "Show you, really."

He cocked his head to the side, ears raised. That meant he was confused. "Are you alright, Dawn?"

She laughed again at that. "In a manner of speaking."

Without any further explanation, she unbuttoned the top button of her cloak and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor, and revealing the tied-off stump of her left sleeve.

Her father took a half-step back in surprise, just staring for a moment before his eyes darted to the left side of her neck and he flinched.

"This wasn't from combat, was it _da'assan_?"

Dawn knew what he was referring to. The stump from where the anchor had all but dissolved her arm before it was removed had left a rather nasty scar in its wake. Energy had shot up her shoulder, filling her veins with the Veil's energy and leaving burnt green marks like lightning in its wake, stopping just below her jaw and just above her ribcage. The entire upper-left half of her torso glowed faintly whenever she was in the dark, brighter around the stump of her arm and on her sternum just above her heart.

But even just seeing where the scars reached her neck was disconcerting.

"On the bright side," Dawn said. "I don't need to worry about that mark on my hand anymore."

Her father smiled slightly, still clearly upset, but appreciating her attempt to have humor in this situation. His expression didn't soften for long, however, and Dawn saw his ears shift back slightly in anger as he started to pace.

"How did this happen?" he began. "That—whatever he called himself—spiritual advisor, he said he had stopped it from harming you. When I was at Skyhold, he _assured_ me that you were no longer in danger."

As he paced, he almost instinctively reached up and started to tie his hair back, as if keeping it out of his eyes would help him rant.

" _Fenedhis lasa_ —did he lie to me? To _you_?"

Dawn said nothing, biting her tongue.

"He did, didn't he? Never trust an elf with an interest in demons, he was probably just using you as an experiment for his own entertainment."

"Father."

"And his _age_. That man was almost as old as _me_. I believe you when you say your...relationship was never serious, but nonetheless, never trust a man who shows interest in women twenty years younger than him. Or ten years younger than him!"

"Father, listen to me."

"I can't even recall a single time where he wore _shoes_. Outdoors, too!"

"Solas was the Dread Wolf in disguise," Dawn said abruptly. She had meant to lead up to this, she really had, but she knew that her father would go on for a least an hour if she didn't say something to put an end to his tirade.

And that put an end to it, he just stared at her, eyes wide, back straight, immediately frozen in place like a statue. It wasn't unlike his reaction to being told she was the Inquisitor; it even had the same twinge of outright fear at the situation she had gotten herself into.

"Was he really?" he asked softly.

"He told me himself. Admitted it right to my face."

Glancing around the room, then just closing his eyes and nodding slightly, her father turned back and stepped over to the stovetop, kneeling in front of it and trying to start a fire.

"Make yourself at home," he said. "I can brew us some tea and we'll talk about this."

* * *

When people looked at Dawn Lavellan, they usually had some expression of pity on their faces. Not that she could blame them, really. For someone as young as her to be put in such a position, to lead an army, to fortify and defend a castle, to bring about the salvation of the entire world, no one person should have that much responsibility. If it weren't for the mark, she would just as easily have given the title to Cassandra or Vivienne, someone far more qualified.

But now the Inquisition was disbanded, and Dawn was sitting at the dining table of a cabin deep in the wilderness, clutching her mug of hot tea just to feel the warmth radiating into her palm.

"So, you swear he didn't cause this?" her father asked again.

"This was going to happen eventually," she answered again. "He kept me alive for as long as he could. Once the mark grew unstable, amputation was the only option."

"What do you mean by unstable?"

"It kept exploding." She looked up, staring him straight in the eye. "It would've broken every bone in my body if we hadn't cut off my hand."

He winced at that, the reaction she had anticipated to get him to stop asking about it.

"When I said that the Dread Wolf was guiding you, this is far from what I meant," he responded.

"Solas said he was the only one who could have wielded the anchor without being killed by it," Dawn said softly.

"His name is Fen'harel. We don't need to keep pandering to his fantasies."

She just sighed again, leaning back in her chair and staring at the ceiling. Inevitably, she would need to get back to the task she had set for herself. Finding Solas again, getting an explanation from him, getting _anything_ to try and ease her doubts about his motives, that was her future priority. But not now.

"I don't want to talk about him anymore."

"Of course, _da'assan_."

"But that does remind me." Dawn looked back at her father. "When I get back, I should ask Varric to make me a one-handed crossbow."

"That won't have as much power as a full-sized one," he added. "Even less than a longbow."

"It's better than nothing." Dawn shrugged her left shoulder, inadvertently lifting the remaining half of her arm. While it was in her eyesight, she just stared at it, turning the stump as much as she could.

"The dawn will come," her father said. "You were always so optimistic. You heard that chant once and decided that would be your new name. You wanted a reminder that hope was always possible."

"I didn't even know it was religious when I heard it then," she responded with a laugh. "They started singing it once, after the fall of Haven. I didn't have the heart to tell any of them I gave myself that name when I was a child and just starting to discover who I am."

"You've grown so much since all of this happened." He smiled again, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. He was still worrying. "You shouldn't have needed to, of course, but I'm continually proud of who you're becoming. You still know that, don't you?"

"Of course." The smile she returned was just as worried—she had no plans to tell her father about what she planned to do after she left. "And I'm not going to let this stop me. It'll hurt for a while, I'll need time to heal as much as I can, but I still have goals in mind."

"Maybe you'll actually invite your father to help you with some of those goals." The way he raised his eyebrows as he took another sip of his tea made it clear he was joking, but under different circumstances, Dawn would invite him in a heartbeat

"I would need an experienced archer now, wouldn't I?" Dawn joked back, but seeing the flicker in his eyes, she backtracked. "I'm kidding. I have a friend who's even better with her bow than I am. Was."

Her father glared, still joking. "Maybe that friend of yours could give me advice, then. I'm an old hermit of an elf who hasn't needed to fight a real battle in his life."

Dawn huffed and shoved lightly at his shin under the table. "Who knows? Maybe you've gotten soft over the years. It might take an elf and a half to train you back to reliability."

The two of them laughed together at that, then fell silent. Snow was still falling slowly out the window, the fireplace was crackling softly as it used up its logs, and the room was filled with the smell of tea and spices. She had missed this. Skyhold had been comfortable, sure, but it lacked all the subtle things that reminded her of home.

Even as her father had hopped with her from clan to clan, he had stayed the same. Wary of magic, even more wary of humans, not too fond of so-called "uptight elves" who valued the purity of your blood. And while he advised that she keep knowledge her human mother under wraps, he never once questioned or objected to Dawn's realization in her childhood about who she was. And despite his distrust of magic, he let her seek it out to help with any transitional effects she needed.

If Dawn was more comfortable thinking of herself as a good person, she would know that she got all of her good traits from her father. The rest of it, her reckless nature and desire to prove herself, she assumed came from her mother, but she never resented her father for never introducing the two of them.

But his patient nature, his caution, she never inherited those. Maybe if she was more like her father, she would have figured out the truth about Fen'harel sooner.

 _Too late for that now_ , she thought, downing the rest of her tea.

The road to recovery was going to be long, but this environment was exactly what she needed for it. She needed to be away from the prying eyes and constant questions that her allies—who were just as much of a family to her as her father, really—were bound to have. She needed a break. To spend the winter with her father and get back to work when spring came.

And then she would have a wolf to hunt.

**Author's Note:**

> as i was finishing this i realized it was a lot like how yang was acting in volume 4 of rwby but the comparison isnt that far off


End file.
